Shirtless Jehans Crash A Sickfic
by Trust Gavroche
Summary: I'm not even really sure what the actual barricade this is. In a nutshell, Jehan delivers a singing telegram to a sick Combeferre. Rated T because I'm paranoid. Also under Musicals as "The Singing Telegram."


**A/N: I have absolutely no idea what this is but I cracked up writing it and I hope you at least smile while reading it. Also, please forgive any past-tense, present-tense mistakes you seen, dearly sorry. ****Jehan's fedora symbolizes NOTHING.**

**Based on this prompt and kind of inspired by my friend That Creative One: **_**But really just imagine Ferre taking Enj's temperature or something and frowning when all of a sudden the door busts open and Jehan comes in wearing no shirt and there are two CIA/FBI/whatever agents are behind him with black sunglasses looking dead serious and then Jehan pulls flowers from behind his back and starts yelling/singing a song and waltzing around and spinning and chucking flowers everywhere.**_

**Anyway...enjoy!**

**-Vroche**

* * *

"Here, 'Ferre," Enjolras handed his best friend an ear thermometer. The two were roommates and had known each other almost since birth, and so it was no surprise that when Combeferre had come down with the flu, Enjolras abandoned his usual untouchable, marble-like disposition in order to mother-hen Combeferre.

"Thanks, Enj," Combeferre said weakly, his throat red and hoarse from the almost nonstop coughing. He put the thermometer in his ear and pushed the button.

Not a second after he did so, there was a large BANG from the front of their apartment and the sound of action-movie-like music playing faintly.

"What the french revolution?" muttered Enjolras, jumping off Combeferre's bed and running to the door. Combeferre, overcome with curiosity, slowly climbed out from under his mountain of blankets and followed Enjolras, stopping at the doorway to nearly cough up a lung.

The sight they saw standing in the ruins of their door frame was probably the last thing they would have expected to see.

Jean "Jehan" Prouvaire, the poet and usually the gentle, thoughtful one in their group of friends, was standing in the center of the doorway. He had a cheap leather jacket and no shoes on, but was wearing black fingerless leather gloves, a black fedora, and a colorful plastic Hawaiian leii. Standing slightly behind and on either side of him were two tall men wearing fancy watched, pitch black shades, tuxedos, and bald heads. All three...er, visitors were holding a Nerf gun, and Jehan was fumbling with his iPhone, trying to turn off the dramatic background music. He finally found the right button and slid the phone back into his pocket.

"Attention Monsieur Enjolrasessss and Combeferresss. You have received a singing telegram from Anonymous. Please push play to begin your telegram."

"Erm..." Enjolras turned to look at Combeferre, who was frozen, staring at Jehan and company, tissue pressed to his nose and a very disturbed look on his face. Combeferre shrugged. Jehan had a play button? He hesitantly stepped forward and poked Jehan's chest. "Boop?"

"Thank you for your co-operation," replied Jehan in a monotonous voice. All of a sudden, he put his arms around the shoulders of his bodyguard people and they all started doing can-cans.

Enjolras raised his eyebrows and retreated to the couch, deciding it would be best to just wait this one out. Combeferre followed suit.

"Something has changed within me . Something is not the same," Jehan began singing. Surprisingly, his voice was actually really good.

"You don't say," muttered Combeferre, and was then interrupted by another coughing fit.

Jehan ignored him and continued singing Defying Gravity, playing the part of Elphaba, with one of his bodyguards singing Glinda's part. "It's time to try defying gravity! I think I'll TRYYYYY DEEEFYYYYYYING GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVITY! And nobody in all of Oz, no Wizard that there is or was, is ever gonna BRING MEEE DOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWN!" He finished with a flourish of his hat and a rapid Nerf gun fire and then cleared his throat.

"NARWHALS, narwhals, swimming in the ocean, causing a commotion, 'cause they are so awesome. Narwhals, narwhals-" At this point, the real Jehan resumed the can-cans and three more Jehans, dressed exactly the same but without the Hawaiian leii, popped out from behind their kitchen counter and joined in. "-swimming in the ocean. Pretty big and pretty white, they beat a polar bear in a fight!"

All four Jehans did can-cans while the bodyguards beat-boxed rather impressively. They finished the song and there was a moment of blissful silence before two more identical Jehans jumped off of the ceiling fan and they all started singing "Here's a llama, there's a llama, and another little llama, fuzzy llama, funny llama, llama llama duck."

Enjolras and Combeferre just stared.

"Llama, llama, cheesecake llama, tablet, brick, potato llama, llama llama, mushroom llama, llama llama duck."

The bodyguards reached into their pockets and pulled out a bag of ice and a bag of confetti, respectively. The one with the bag of ice tore it open and started tossing it to the many Jehans, who squealed when they caught one in their mouth. The bodyguard with the conferri ripped open the bag and hurled its contents at the fan.

"I was once a treehouse, I lived in a cake, though I never saw the way, the orange slayed the rake, I was only three years dead, but it told a tale,and now listen, little child, to the safety rail."

Enjolras and Combeferre, still speechless, watched as the real Jehan threw his jacket to the floor in a wonderful demonstration of his six-pack.  
The Jehans continued in the background: "Have you ever seen a llama, kiss a llama, on a llama llama's llama, tastes of llama, llama llama duck. Half a llama, twice a llama, not a llama, farmer llama. Llama in a car, alarm a llama llama duck."

But the new distraction was their friends (Joly, Bossuet, Grantaire, Courfeyrac, Bahorel, Marius, and Feuilly), who all jumped through the window behind the couch wearing nothing but red-and-black plaid boxers and white knee socks. They started to rap. "Pants on the ground, pants on the ground, lookin' like a foool with your pants on the ground; with the gold in your mouth, hat turned sideways; pants hit the ground, call yourself a cool cat, lookin' like a fool; walkin' downtown with yo pants on the ground!"

In the background, the Jehans continued the Llama Song. "Is it how it's told now? Is it all so old? Is it made of lemon juice? Doorknob, ankle, cold. Now my song is getting thin, I've run out of luck! Time for me to retire now, and become a duck." Having reached the end of the song, they promptly began it again, but faster this time.

Joly, Bossuet, Grantaire, Courfeyrac, Bahorel, Marius, and Feuilly finished their rap, pulled Silly String out from behind their backs, and squirted the whole room and its inhabitants in the smelly, colorful, sticky substance before jumping out the window, one by one, shouting "BAD BOYS, BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO? WHATCHA GONNA DO WHEN THEY COME FOR YOU?"

Meanwhile, all the Jehans filed out the door whilst doing the Macarena in a conga line.

Only the real Jehan, now shirtless, and his two bodyguards remained. Jehan suddenly reached into his ear and pulled out a bouquet of scarlet roses. He then proceeded to skip around the whole house, flinging the roses everywhere and literally screaming "WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS, WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS, WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND. A. HAPPPPPYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWW. YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAR! AND GET WELL SOON, COMBEFERRE!"

With this, he grabbed the hands of his body guards and they all leaped out through the window in single file, softly singing "Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens. Brown paper packages tied up with strings; these are a few of my favorite things..."


End file.
